Kiss Under a Red Moon
by Archer 13
Summary: A two part story, featuring Alucard and Seras. Their thoughts on each other.
1. Red Moon

A huge thank you to all who reviewed, but i'm afraid that none of these will become full fledged stories. You see, i'm not good with anything other than one-shots. Sorry, guys.

Red Moon-

A splash of red adorned the black skies that april night. The wind whistled in the far off trees as he sat under the red moon. It bathed him in a silvery glow, illuminating further the crimson eyes under the yellow tinted goggles. He lie there, legs crossed, hands behind his head, staring. His black hair fanned slightly behind his gloved hands, his tie, fedora, and trenchcoat missing, leaving him in a grey suit glittering in the moonlight. Dangling around his neck was a gold pendant, a locket. It was carved intricately with a pentacle infused with a cross, and wrapped around it in tiny letters was 'Standeth the bird of hermes'(1)

He fingered the locket in confusuion, letting the coolness of it drift under his glove. She had given it to him before she left. His crimson eyes drifted towards the castle, staring longingly as if she would suddenly jump out the door, running from that blasted Captain again. He wanted her to be there with him again, staring at him in utter confusion as he stargazed. He wanted her to refuse her blood, if only to hear her voice. He wanted.. He wanted to see her again. He was confused, and he was alone. All alone. Again.

Only this time, it hurt more than it did before.

She was so like the sun, so bright, so innocent, that it drew him to her like a moth to the flame. He longed to see the sunrise in her eyes, the bright crimson hue that was so unlike the setting sun color of his own. They were opposites, completely. He was a bloodsucking supervampire, a crazed monster who knew what he wanted right from the start. He was dead. She? She was alive. She was still human after death. She clung to what he never had. And for one reason or another, he respected her for that. At least, respected her enough to let her cling to it as she had. Now? The sun no longer rises in her eyes. She was her own, no longer tied to him, no longer refusing her blood. She became as he is. A monster. Insane, powerful, a vampire in her own right. This was what he saw when he first looked at her, but... This was not what he wanted for her. She was human. He was not. She was innocent. He was far from it. He looked to the sky again. Now she's just like him.

He popped open the locket, to find a small picture inside it. Walter had taken that picture so long ago. She stood there, shadows flowing out from her arms and enveloping him in a vampiric hug, and he, goggles askew to show crimson eyes wide with suprise as she clung to him. 'A trinket from days long past' she had said, when she gave it to him. She had smiled when she said that, remembering fondly those days when she was but a fledgling.

He finally rose and strided over to the castle, his trenchcoat, fedora and tie reforming over his body from the shadows. He had decided. Never again was he going to be alone. Never more would he sigh to the moon. He had her, she had him. And that was all that mattered.

1: "Standeth the bird of hermes" -a snippet from the Ripley Scroll (section: the green lion, the red lion), where the phrase "The bird of hermes is my name, eating my wings to make me tame" was taken by Kohta Hirano. The scroll was used in the 15th century for Alchemic Purposes, most noteably the Philosopher's Stone.


	2. Kiss of A Rose

The bright moon rose over the looming Hellsing castle one early April night, casting silver shadows over the towers streched tall and wide over the English terrain. Perched atop said castle was a young draculina, no older than thirty, with eyes the color of the forbidden sunrise and hair the color of just-spun gold. She sat there, staring down at her monstrous master. Or was he? After all, the hand of man is much like the paw of the bear (1) and so is man much like the beast he so fears. Maybe, she had just been seeing her master in the wrong light. He was not so frightening when the red trenchcoat and fedora were gone, or when his eyes rested on the silvery glowing moon, his lips upturned in a small, true smile...

What was she thinking? He was a VAMPIRE, a monster, hundreds of years old and full of insanity and inhuman hatred. She was a youngling, once clinging so desperately to the humanity he had taken from her. What was she, now? She was no longer connected to him, no longer an idellic fledgling who refused her blood and became so weak that even sleep could not satiate her tiredness. No more was she so helpless that she could not defend herself against a thousand gouls.. But what did that make her? A monster like her master? No, he was not her master anymore. He was her mentor, her guardian angel... Somewhat.

She watched him play silently with the locket she had given to him, his eyes wandering over the golden metal, his fingers running over the carvings she had taken so long to ingrain. She was unsure if he would take it, even like it for that matter, but he did, for whatever reason he had locked up in that unstable mind of his. Some days, she swore she would never understand her mentor. He was insane, but sometimes not. He was cruel, but also somewhat kind. She wondered absently: is this not what all men are like? And if so, does that make the monster a man?

She stopped wondering, for one day all this thinking would hurt her head. Better to roll with... whatever it was that he is than to hurt her mind more than his tauntings did. She saw him look towards the castle with longing eyes; wait, Longing? What's the matter with him? He never looked _longing,_ of all things. And more importantly, what was the matter with her? She never thought about him this much. For the most part, it took all they had to _stand _each other, much less to think about one another.

His eyes darted back to the moon and hers wandered over his mesomorphic form, drinking in his trenchcoat-less body. He was a walking reminder of what the gods would look like, his arms strong and powerful and his abs that looked like they were carved from the purest grecian marble. (2) He was a testament to time itself, a living statue poured from gold to walk the earth. If she didn't know better, she would have called him Hades(3).

She watched him pop open the locket, his muscles rippling below the cloth of his shirt. She remembered the picture that she had put inside, smiling at the memory of the look of true suprise that was on his face and the hilarity of seeing his goggle-like glasses askew in that snapshot. She saw the grin that spread across his face as he pulled himself up and almost laughed at the blades of grass that got stuck in his hair. She stood from her spot on the roof and waited as he approached the castle, the shadows around him reforming the trenchcoat and fedora that were his trademarks.

As he neared the castle doors, she took her chance and jumped into a vortex that reappeared before him, her lithe form flexing as she moved. She glided over the silver-green grasses to him, gently reaching up and grazing the golden locket he wore with the tips of her fingers. He looked down at her through the yellow goggles that gave his sunset-red eyes a hunter's tinge and grabbed her hand in his own. Her sunrise eyes looked up at his and she smiled, showing a set of extended fangs. He bent over her and whispered in her ear.

"And just how long have you been there, Seras?"

"Just long enough, Alucard."

And she kissed him.

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1. This is a refrence to the book For Whom the Bell Tolls, by Earnest Hemmingway. I in no way reccomend it, but this is a rather intresting tidbit I found. I tried to get some kind of good literature in these, I havent been doing so well for the past few, but c'est la vie.

2. Sorry, in a very greek-ish mood. This is refrencing to the statues of the greeks. (I was watching Hercules earlier. Yes, the disney animated version. Heh Heh... Yeahhh.

3. Hades, god of the underworld. Contrary to popular belief, Hades wasn't evil, only misunderstood, brooding and somewhat emo, in my opinion.


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